Snapshots
by mremre
Summary: A series of loosely connected E/V slash snippets. Non-graphic. "Outside In" NEW!
1. Introduction

Hi all!  
  
When I first decided to try my hand at writing Mag7 slash, I naturally gravitated towards the E/V pairing. Why? There's just something about Ezra and Vin that hit all my buttons.  
  
Anyway, I have a serious problem with completing stories--you do not want to know how many stories I outlined and abandoned. That was very frustrating for me because I WANTED to write but it just wouldn't be completed. Outline, abandon, outline, abandon, like some sort of hack.   
  
Frustrated, I turned to writing snippets. I can easily conceptualize a single moment in time, produce a snapshot of the situation. It's when I try to string all those snippets into a story that I run into trouble.  
  
Finally, I decided to just post snippets. No one will kill me for it, and someone might even like them. For those of you who have been around for a bit may recognize them from their first go-around on TheMagnificentTwo list at  
Yahoo!Groups. I've decided to also post them here, to force myself to move on and keep trying.  
  
I tried to make the Snapshots as unspecific as possible, so that you can read them into whichever setting you prefer. I can see these snippets in both OW and ATF settings, for instance. I leave it to the reader to decide.  
  
There are currently ten Snapshots, but that may grow as the muses strike. They can be read in any order, although I'm posting them in the order I wrote them. I'm not too happy with some of them, but how will I ever learn if I don't post?  
  
Thanks for listening, people.  
=)  
Mre 


	2. Midnight Confessions

Vin let his arms slacken around the somnolent form of his lover and deliberately slowed his breathing. After fifteen minutes, the man squirmed around to press his cheek against the tracker's chest. Vin shifted, then sighed and relaxed his muscles.  
  
Another fifteen minutes passed before the next movement in the nightly ritual began. Vin kept his breathing steady as a featherlight kiss was pressed over his heart. He managed to remain still when the nearly soundless "I love you, Vin Tanner," was breathed over the spot.  
  
Satisfied, his lover pressed second heartbreakingly gentle kiss to the base of his throat and slipped into sleep snuggled tightly to his side.  
  
Vin struggled not to swallow against the lump in his throat, knowing the click of muscle would give him away. Tears burned behind his eyelids. *When you gonna tell me to my face, Ezra?* 


	3. Pep Talk

//Hey...//  
  
//What's up, cowboy?//  
  
//Ya know how me an' Ez are...//  
  
Shoot. How in hell am I supposed ta say it? Fucking each other? Don't sound right, even if its true. Sleeping together? Me an' Ez ain't actually sleeping much.  
  
//What about it?//  
  
//I'm kinda in a bind.//  
  
Ain't really a bind, I suppose. More like a...  
  
//Just spit it out.//  
  
//See, Ez won't tell me what he's feeling.//  
  
There, I said it.  
  
//You already knew the man don't say much about himself.//  
  
Guess so. Ezra's always got something ta say. It's just usually not what a body needs ta hear.  
  
//What you gotta do is listen harder for all those things he don't say.//  
  
//Right. Thanks.//  
  
//No problem, cowboy.//  
  
Vin nodded firmly at the ghostly reflection in the mirror, then crawled into bed to spoon up against his lover. He could wait forever to hear the words. He had Ezra's hands...and Ezra's smile...and... 


	4. Making Amends

Vin concentrated on breathing. If he could still breathe, he must be alive, even though he was sure the top of his head had come off sometime that evening.  
  
He drifted in the wake of the most delicious lassitude. Ezra had brought him to the brink again and again, balancing him on the knife's edge of passion with those talented hands before pushing him over it with that wicked, wicked tongue.  
  
It took all his strength to wind their fingers together before bringing his lover's hand to his lips.  
  
"What was that all 'bout, Ez?" His voice was raspy from strain. He almost didn't hear the low response over his thundering heartbeat.  
  
"Makin' amends."  
  
He couldn't believe his ears. "You still goin' on 'bout them boots ya spilled coffee on? Shoot, Ez, y'already bought me a new pair!"  
  
"Unfortunately, I have a further tresspass to confess."  
  
With the Southerner pressed up against him, it was a simple matter to roll them over and pin his lover to the mattress. "Okay, what gives?"  
  
"I fear that I have taken liberties with the extent of my earlier purchase, despite your vehemence to the contrary."  
  
"Ya sayin' ya got me that coat after I said no?" He sighed. "Ez, what am I goin' ta do with ya?"  
  
"But you looked so beautiful in that coat, Vin! I could no more resist procuring it than I could resist you."  
  
"Seein' as y'already apologized an' all that," he drawled, fingers tracing random patterns over his lover's chest, "I guess I should forgive ya."  
  
He brought Ezra's fingers to his mouth and sucked strongly for a moment. "Reckon I'm supposed ta thank ya, too."  
  
The wide grin was answer enough. 


	5. Southern Comfort

Oh god.  
  
Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.  
  
VIN!!  
  
I'm closest to him, although Chris is already bellowing for Nathan. My hands are dripping red and I can't stop the bleeding.  
  
Please god, stop the bleeding.  
  
Nathan is trying to pull me off...does he want Vin to bleed to death? Josiah is dragging me away from Vin and this is wrong.... It wasn't.... It didn't...no!  
  
With a strangled sob, I woke up, heart pounding in my throat. I didn't have the strength to move yet, but I could see Vin slouched over asleep on the chair beside the bed. Blinking back sudden tears, I had to touch him, to make sure it was only a nightmare, to make sure he was real.  
  
It took every crumb of strength I had to stretch my hand the four inches to where his hand lay on the bed. Always a light sleeper, Vin woke immediately.  
  
"Ez! You're awake!"  
  
He was hoarse and his eyes were red-rimmed. But he was alive, and I had gotten to him in time. "Are..." My voice was raspy. I swallowed a bit and tried again. "Are...you alright, Vin?"  
  
He seemed taken aback. "Hell, Ez, of course I'm all right. What the hell were ya thinkin'?"  
  
He glared at me, drilling into me with those intense blue eyes of him. I wanted to look away, but he has always expected more from me than anyone else and I could not bear to disappoint my lover.  
  
"I...witnessed that...miscreant movin' surreptiously to get behind you," I tried to explain. "I could not...allow him to gain the...upper hand in our altercation."  
  
"So ya jumped in front of that bastard Connors and he damn near gutted ya!" he snarled.  
  
I'd never seen him this angry before. "I had to..." I faltered. "I couldn't let him..."  
  
Vin pressed a kiss to my palm. "Ez, ya got hurt on account of me. That's 'bout the worst thing that ever happened ta me. How d'ya think that makes me feel?"  
  
I swallowed hard and gathered what I could of my courage. "Vin, I would... rather die than allow... some grievance to befall you." I tried blinking away the tears that burned in my eyes and failed. "I cannot help but...value your life above my own."  
  
He leaned forward and kissed me fervently. "Promise me ya won't do this again," he whispered against my lips. "I want yer word on this, Ez."  
  
I wish I could lie to him, just this once. "I am afraid...I cannot give it."  
  
"Damn it, Ez, ya nearly died!" he cried brokenly.  
  
With gentle touches and soothing murmurs, I got him to climb into bed with me. He needed to rest and grieve, and I needed the comfort of my lover beside me. Eventually, we slept. 


	6. Yours

Yesterday, I acquired a new book, a rather fascinating collection of memoirs. Vin saw me making off with my prize and asked me that it was about. He looked almost embarrased to be asking, but his hunger to *know* was palpable.  
  
Vin finds it difficult to read. He gets headaches, and the longer he struggles to make sense of the print, the worse it gets. That is one reason why he loves poetry so. Their brevity allows him to enjoy them with only minor consequences.  
  
I was appalled by my thoughtlessness. It had simply never occurred to me that Vin would be interested in my predeliction for autobiographical tales, or any other volume of prose. I should have known better.  
  
Without futher ado, I dragged my lover into bed and arranged him comfortably around me. Then I proceeded to read out loud for my Vin. We spent a wonderful afternoon curled up together, sharing the book. He said he loved the way my accent cradled the words. I cannot recall ever enjoying a book--or a Saturday afternoon--more.  
  
That was yesterday. We didn't finish it, of course. After some chapters, my throat began to complain and we agreed to put off the rest until the next day.  
  
Somehow we ended up in our bed, in exactly the same positions we took yesterday. I snuggled closer to Vin and pulled out the leather-bound volume. Now, where did we leave off? Ah, yes.  
  
This is odd. The narrative breaks off into poetry...  
  
//The life that I have is all that I have//  
//and the life that I have//  
//is yours//  
  
My voice is unsteady, my throat tight, and I have difficulty swallowing.  
  
//The love that I have//  
//for the life that I have//  
//is yours and yours and yours//  
  
Vin's eyes are suspicously bright. It hurts to breathe.  
  
//A sleep I shall have//  
//a rest I shall have//  
//Yet death will be but a pause//  
  
I taste salt on my lips.  
  
//For the peace of my years//  
//in the long green grass//  
//shall be yours and yours and yours//  
  
I put down the book with shaking hands and turn to Vin. I do not think we will be reading any more this day.  
  
--end--  
  
NOTES: I've been looking for a reason to use this poem in a story since Christmas 2000. Eventually I gave up forcing it, which is when Ezra presented this Snapshot to me. The poem was brought to my attention by a Sentinel listsib (thanks Bluewolf!), then I found it quoted in 'Between Silk and Cyanide' by Leo Marks. It was used by the Allied spy Violette Szabo to encrypt dispatches. I have not yet been able to find title or author, but if anyone knows please tell me! 


	7. Desperate Measures

His hands never faltered in their dance as he manipulated the cards, but it took all his concentration. Ezra sucked in his breath and did *not* bite his lip when that finger stroked lightly down his thigh. Again. He glared at the 'napping' Vin. Who knew that his quiet Texan could be such a tease?  
  
The Seven had gathered for a private game of poker but it seemed Vin had another game in mind altogether. He had folded his hand early in the evening and was comfortably slouched in the seat beside him, eyes half closed, legs stretched out under the table. Despite his tranquil appearance, the aggravating man was torturing him under the table.  
  
It was maddening! *Precisely* four inches down, then--oh god--up the inside seam of his pants. Each light touch was a wave of pleasure and he was almost dizzy with need. Each stroke came tantalizingly closer and closer to his erection but never actually touched. Damn the man!  
  
Vin's leg was now pressed against his own. Despite his firmest resolutions, Ezra found himself opening wider to the ministrations of those clever, clever fingers.  
  
Maybe if he lost the next hand the others would leave to celebrate the sizeable pot.... 


	8. Poker Face

God! I love the way he plays poker. Look at the way them cards are flyin' between his hands. He can make 'em do anything he wants. There. See that? One flick of a finger, and the cards are slidin' across the table, stopping right where he wants 'em.  
  
I pick up my cards, but can't concentrate on what I got. I lose the first hand ta Ez, but I don't mind. He's got that smirky grin lurkin' in his eyes and I love that. Means a whole lotta fun after the game, if y'know what I mean. Man just loves ta win at the poker table.  
  
I don't rightly understand how he can deal them cards and keep talkin' round the table, keepin' track of what everybody's been sayin'. I can't seem ta get my eyes offa those hands. Them cards'd sit up and beg if he wanted 'em to. Course, they ain't the only ones willin' ta sit up an beg for what those hands can do.  
  
This is useless. I can't never seem ta play right when Ezra's dealin' our games. His hands are damned distractin'. I'd better fold before he cleans me out, cause my Ez don't play favorites when it comes ta poker an' I like my money where it is.  
  
Wonder what it would take ta rattle that poker face? 


	9. Q and A

"Ohhh..."  
  
There was a low chuckle and then--  
  
"Oh god!" he moaned helplessly.   
  
A husky whisper. "What about this?"  
  
The moaning became gasping breaths and he fought for words.  
  
"Please," he managed at last.  
  
A gentle nibbling woke the burning pleasure of a love-bite high on his hip and he was writhing against the sheets.  
  
"Please," he whimpered.  
  
"What was that?"   
  
"Just--ah!" His voice rose in a wordless, choked-off howl of pleasure.  
  
"Did you say something?" the other prompted with a wicked grin.  
  
"...please..." he swallowed thickly. "Just...please..."  
  
-----  
  
Note from Mre: So.... Who did what to whom? =) 


	10. Better Man

I never used to work this hard at anything. There was a time that I did only what pleased me.   
  
Like eating breakfast at noon.  
  
I used my money to procure what I desired, bedecked myself in wonderful clothing and surrounded myself with all that is refined.  
  
No more.  
  
I rise--or attempt to--with the sun. I cannot stomach a meal before noon, but I will drink coffee to keep company with my Vin.   
  
I find myself questioning my reasons for doing anything. Will Vin approve? Would he mind? Can we, should we, could we?  
  
The power he wields over me is terrifying.  
  
Every day, I look at myself in the mirror and trace the evidence of last night's passion. The marks are a promise from Vin, that I belong to him, that I belong with him.  
  
I have my own promise.   
  
Every day, I strive to be a better man, someone my lover can be proud of. Some day, I will be worthy of his love.  
  
It is the most precious thing in my life. 


	11. Outside In

Y'know, I'm damn jealous of what those two got. Not that I'd give up the pleasures of a willing woman. The way they smell, their soft breasts--there's nothing like it.  
  
Just look at them. Vin can't take his eyes offa Ezra, and ol' Ez is grinning fit to bust a gut. You can tell how happy they are, being together.  
  
When we first figured out how things were between them, Josiah lectured Vin for a solid hour about hurting 'his boy'. Ez nearly died of embarrasment, but Vin swore up and down that he'd do everything he could to keep Ez happy anyway.  
  
Look at that. They're across the table from each other and it's obvious they think it's about a table too far.  
  
Damn, sure wish I could find someone who'd look at me like that. It ain't loving I'm short on. Just ask any of the ladies!  
  
It's the love. 


End file.
